


hit me baby one more time.

by richttps



Series: NSFW Tumblr Prompts. [3]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Bottom Richie, M/M, NSFW, Richie Wears A Britney Spears Shirt, Semi-Dom Eddie, Tattoo Pain Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richttps/pseuds/richttps
Summary: As a child, Eddie always dreamt of becoming a doctor but things don’t always go as planned - especially when you’re still sleeping with a stuffed animal.At twenty-four, he still deals with his fair share of people passing out and crying underneath a needle, but not medically. Instead, he spent his years in college exploring the world of art and went on to work as a tattoo artist in his own shop. In a way, the two are very similar, at least that’s what he tells himself when a newly legal teenager tells him that they’re so grateful that he’d tattooed the word ‘bitch’ on the inside of their lip.Going into every appointment he prepares himself for the worst, but the majority of them are smooth sailing. Every once in a while he’ll get the occasional dizzy individual or the one who takes one look at the gun and flees. Other times, they’re calm and quiet through the whole process. All in all, every person he meets is different from the rest.His last appointment for the night is especially different.





	hit me baby one more time.

**Author's Note:**

> this ended up way longer than i intended so there's that.  
> there's probably spelling errors so don't be surprised.  
> other than that, enjoy some bottom richie.

As a child, Eddie always dreamt of becoming a doctor but things don’t always go as planned - especially when you’re still sleeping with a stuffed animal.

At twenty-four, he still deals with his fair share of people passing out and crying underneath a needle, but not medically. Instead, he spent his years in college exploring the world of art and went on to work as a tattoo artist in his own shop. _His mother was not pleased._ In a way, the two are _very_ similar, at least that’s what he tells himself when a newly legal teenager tells him that they’re _so grateful_ that he’d tattooed the word ‘bitch’ on the inside of their lip.

Going into every appointment he prepares himself for the worst, but the majority of them are smooth sailing. Every once in a while he’ll get the occasional dizzy individual or the one who takes one look at the gun and flees. Other times, they’re calm and quiet through the whole process. All in all, every person he meets is different from the rest.

His last appointment for the night is _especially_ different.

He came in ten minutes before Eddie closed down the store with a hopeful grin on his face that he couldn’t turn away. He was quirky from what Eddie could see, curls wild and tangled on his head with pink tinted sunglasses to hold them back from spilling in his eyes.

“I like your shirt.” Eddie mused, leading the other towards the reclined chair so he could settle down while Eddie sketched out the planned piece.

It was meant to sound like a tease for the choice of apparel, but it just made him grin wider as he glanced down at his own Britney Spears t-shirt. The odd thing is that it didn’t look _off_ on him, it looked rather cute in Eddie’s eyes. It fit loosely and there were holes scattered around the material to give it more of a ‘grungy’ vibe that made Eddie want to scoff because _of course_.

“Thanks, it’s quite intoxicating isn’t it?” He replies completely serious as Eddie sits underneath a brightly lit light with a pencil in hand before stifling laughter in the palm of his hand. “Get it? She’s got a song called ‘toxic’”

_Quirky._

Truthfully, Eddie should be shaking his head at such a horrible pun that doesn’t even make sense, but he can’t help himself from smiling when he speaks. The rasp in his voice brings a vibration to Eddie’s body, it’s deep and gravelly in his throat but oozes out with ease. It’s not like Eddie hasn’t heard someone with a rather deep tone before, but it’s the image of this man who looks so effortlessly beautiful in a fucking _Britney Spears_ and pink sunglasses that has his ears listening with interest at the nonsense he speaks.

“Please tell me you have better jokes than that, I’m not working past closing for _below average_ jokes.”

“Oh, is that why the doors locked?” He speaks while Eddie’s switching off the light and carrying the stencil over towards where he’s sat. “I thought you were gonna go all Sweeney Todd on me.”

Eddie sits down in the chair beside him with a breath of laughter. “That’d be too obvious.”

“Too obvious? As opposed to?”

“Wooing you with my artistic talent until you fall dead with amazement.” He wiggles his eyebrows in the others direction with a snap of the latex glove against his wrist, adding onto the dramatic effect.

It falls quiet after that, no rebound statement from him as Eddie slides his hand into the other latex glove. There’s an arm instinctively falling onto the rest which allows Eddie to get the perfect view at the numerous scattered ink pieces on his bicep, most of which look like they’ve got deeper meanings than they give off and others that look as if they’re spur of the moment.

“It’s Richie, by the way.” The voice startles Eddie out of his trance, eyes flicking up towards the face and away from his arm once he speaks.

“Yeah, I remember from your ID.” Eddie replies, curling his lips in Richie’s direction before reaching behind himself to grab a disinfectant wipe. “Eddie.”

“Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie mocks, smug look on his face as Eddie wipes down the blank space on his inner forearm before carefully placing down the outline against his skin.

The nickname makes Eddie cringe because he’s heard it numerous times growing up from other kids in his class, and he wants to curse his parents for giving him a name that rhymes. He doesn’t tell Richie to stop though, mostly because he doesn’t mind the daunting nickname when it comes from him.

There’s a natural feeling to the whole situation as Eddie maneuvers around his tools to begin the process while Richie points to each individual tattoo to explain why he got it which consists of mostly _‘I thought it looked sick’_ or _‘it’s cute’._ All of which Eddie can’t deny because they’re very _Richie_ from what he can tell.

“So what about the one we’re doing?” Eddie asks, gun settled against his index finger as he waits for Richie’s reply. “Cute or sick?”

Richie just smiles goofily like he has been the whole thirty minutes they’ve been together. “Bit of both.”

Eddie glances back down at the stencil on Richie’s forearm, and he decides that the butterfly is very suiting for him. It brings a comforting feeling to Eddie to know that Richie’s so confident and has no doubts with anything he’s previously gotten. _The Yin Yang is a bit basic._

He takes one last look at Richie, locking with bright brown eyes that are hinted with specks of gold. Eddie almost forgets to breathe when he watches his eyes scan down the lengths of Eddie’s body and back up because it makes him feel warm all over and lose his thought process as Richie patiently waits for him. It isn’t for a few more seconds of staring until Eddie finally blinks out of the trance of cheekbones and freckles with a clearing of his throat.

“Ready?” He asks with a crack in his voice that mentally makes him groan at himself as he adjusts the machine in his hand and his foot settles down on the pedal, waiting for Richie’s nod.

Once he’s gotten it, he brings the needle down to Richie’s skin and allows his foot to press gently against the motor, spurring the familiar noise into the studio as he settles into the sketched line. As soon as the gun meets skin, Richie’s inhaling sharply through his nose and releasing a deep breath with a shake in his throat as Eddie drags it against his skin.

He works slowly, paying attention the detailing in the image as he falls into his zone. It’s a soothing feeling to relax into a focus filled state, all outside noise drowning out as he works in his own world. Usually, nothing can distract him once he’s started, but the way Richie keeps shifting in the chair and his leg keeps jumping every time Eddie digs into his skin is pulling his gaze away.

“You good?” He checks in, keeping eyes downcasted and continuing to work but still seeing Richie twitch in the corner of his eyes.

“Yeah, feelin’ a bit woozy.” Richie replies calmly.

“Need to take a break?” Eddie offers, slowing down the movement of his hand so he can lift the needle, but Richie interrupts before he can.

“No, you don’t - please, keep going.” He pleads, sitting up alarmingly without moving his arm that Eddie’s holding still.

It startles Eddie, halting his moments momentarily as he lifts his eyes up to Richie’s face. The sight he’s met with was not one he was prepared for, he nearly chokes on his spit the minute they look at each other. Richie’s face is flushed red, running all the way to the neckline of his shirt, and Eddie can only imagine how flushed his chest is. His mouth runs dry thinking into it, and he notices how glossy and dilated Richie’s eyes are - he looks hazy, lids hooded and relaxed.

Eddie can’t help but lift the machine away from Richie’s arm despite his protests because his mind is suddenly swimming in images that aren’t pure, ones that are distracting him from working. _Dirty thoughts._ His heart pounds against his chest once Richie’s licking his lips because he looks so fuckable to Eddie, lips red and soaked with spit. They look swollen as if Richie’s been sinking his teeth into them the whole time, and Eddie wants to ask but he’s afraid of the answer.

He was expecting to see Richie’s face drained of color and his face wet with sweat from nearing closer to passing out, but if anything, all the colors rose to his face and he looks more lively than he did when he walked in.

He almost looks -

“Turned on.” Eddie voices out loud before he can stop himself, lips parting on their own with the words that were meant to remain in his head. His eyes widen with Richie’s, both watching each other for any movements. Eddie isn’t sure if he should apologize or wait for Richie’s response, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it too much because Richie’s adams apple is bobbing in his throat with a reply.

“I may have a smallpainkink?” He rushes out the last few words, voice more hoarse than before and Eddie didn’t think it was possible but it has him melting in the tone even further than he had earlier.

Eddie’s speachless, because _what the fuck._ When he’d accepted the last minute appointment, he wasn’t expecting to have an aroused boy in his chair openly admitting to their kinks. Not that he’s complaining, because _he’s not._ His mind just keeps repeating the words over and over again in his head, letting it sink into his skin and set aflame in his abdomen.

He doesn’t even know what to say, Richie’s staring at him like he has all the answers but he’s got nothing. All he knows is that he wants to abandon everything altogether and pin him against the seat and see how red he can get. It takes an internal willpower for Eddie to shrug a shoulder dismissively, hoping it appears that he’s not at all about to jizz his pants. Instead, he watches Richie sink back into the seat and changes his view to the ceiling as Eddie goes back to scratching at his skin.  

The tension in the room only continues to grow as Eddie finishes the last few lines of the sketch, all while Richie continues to shift in his seat and openly groan low in his throat. It’s agonizing for Eddie to sit through because now that Richie’s admitted his _problem_ , he’s not trying to hide it. Eddie can hear the short pants of his breath and the way his feet flex in his VANS. All he can do is keep his train of thought off the fact that he’s straining against the zipper of his jeans.

By the time Eddie’s lifting the gun for the last time that night, Richie’s completely lusted out. He stays still as Eddie cleans and bandages the fresh tattoo in silence, touching him with a soft approach in order to not startle him. It isn’t until Eddie’s clearing the build up in his throat that Richie’s snapping out of his moment and his eyes are lifting back onto him as Eddie rises out of his chair.

Suddenly it’s like everything falls onto Richie and he’s just realizing what had happened, mind clearing with reality and his expression instantly morphs into an embarrassed state, and Eddie thought it was impossible for him to blush more but he manages too. Usually, it’s the person Eddie’s working with that passes out, but Eddie’s almost certain that he’s going to pass out from just looking at Richie.

“I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t eve-”

“It’s cool,” Eddie breathes with an assuring smile even though his eyes are beginning to darken with desire at Richie’s appearance because he looks so _sweet._ “It’s sick.”

Eddie’s words noticeably relax Richie as he allows a sigh to slip past his lips, and it makes Eddie realize that he’d been holding his breath this whole time. He takes this time to travel down the lengths of Richie’s body with his eyes, stopping once he’s reached Richie’s crotch and noticed that he’s just as hard as Eddie must be. His fingers itch at his sides as they both remain completely still in their positions, waiting for the other to jump.

“I’m actually really sorry.” Richie repeats himself after seconds of basking in Eddie’s attention, and he doesn’t look sorry _at all._ It looks like he’s just trying to give Eddie the push he wants.  

The impulse in Eddie’s brain takes over as he flashes his eyes to the door, taking in that the blinds are draped over the windows and the doors locked before he’s settling a hand on Richie’s thigh.

“There’s no need to apologize,” He speaks smoothly, rolling off his tongue with confidence. “I liked it.”

His hand begins to trail up, fingers dancing against the denim material as he inches closer to Richie’s crotch but not allowing him to get there too soon. Richie gulps once Eddie’s hand moves, the muscles in his stomach jumping at the touch. He doesn’t reply, he just allows Eddie to touch him.

“Please.” Richie speaks quietly, voice soft as Eddie’s hand continues moving closer and closer.

Eddie gives the satisfaction of allowing his hand to settle over the bulge in Richie’s jeans, warm palm running against the outline of it that has Richie’s breath shaking as he lifts his hips into Eddie’s touch, bringing relief to the ache in his lower half.

He slides the heel of his hand into Richie’s hard cock, allowing the denim material to bring a burning sensation that has him gritting through his teeth as his head falls back against the chair. Eddie’s head is spinning as his fingers work the button of Richie’s pants until it’s falling apart and he’s pulling the zipper down slowly, allowing the metal teeth to scratch against his briefs.

“Fuck.” Richie breaths out again as Eddie’s hand dips into the waistband of Richie’s boxers.

He pulls Richie’s cock out from his briefs, hard against his stomach and already leaking against the cloth of Richie’s shirt as Eddie’s hand wraps around the base and slowly twists his wrists with slow movements, watching the veins in Richie’s neck strain as he attempts to conceal the noises bubbling in his chest.

Eddie doesn’t work with any rush, his strokes are languid and drawn out enough to have Richie’s fingers twitching to reach out himself, but every time Eddie thinks he’s going to muster up the courage, he goes back to clenching them around the sides of the chair. He swipes his thumb over the head, gathering the precum that’s dripped from the attention and allows it to drag down the lengths of his cock to add a slick glide with his palm.

It continues like this for what seems like hours but is only minutes before Richie seems like he’s closing in on an orgasm, and Eddie decides that he’s not letting it end so soon. Just as Richie’s hips begin to lift with Eddie’s strokes is when Eddie’s grip loosen and he removes his hand entirely, soaking in the whine that spurred from Richie.

He faces away from him to rummage through the side table that’s stuffed with all his equipment and digs around for the small tub of aloe vera gel, he figures Richie didn’t come stocked with lube and he knows personally that he didn’t himself. Once he turns back towards Richie, his legs go numb at the sight of Richie’s large hand wrapped around himself and fisting himself with a fast pace with his eyebrows curled into each other.

 **“Ah, ah, don’t you dare touch yourself; If you’re going to come, you’re going to come from my cock alone.”** Eddie voices, tsking Richie out of the moment. The words must’ve sparked Richie because his hand is immediately withdrawn, letting his cock fall back against his shirt, completely neglected.

It clicks in Eddie’s head at that moment that Richie _likes_ being told what to do. He doesn’t move, just waits patiently for Eddie to tell him what’s next, and it isn’t something Eddie’s used to, but it seems to be something he wants to get used to.

Eddie can’t help but stare in awe every time he has the chance to look at Richie because now that he’s got his jeans pushed down around his thighs, Eddie can see how mesmerizing his dick is. His girth makes up for the size, it’s average but in terms of thickness, it’s enough to drool over. Eddie can’t tell if he’s more into watching Richie’s face or watching his cock twitch against his stomach under his gaze.

“Strip.” Eddie orders suddenly, placing the aloe vera on the chair and stepping away so Richie can stand onto his feet.

He’s almost stunned by the power in his voice when he orders Richie, but there’s something satisfying about the way Richie moves with an urgency as if he’d disobey Eddie with not moving fast enough. It spreads a smirk across his face as he leans against the table, eyes glued to Richie as he watches him undress in front of him. It starts with his shoes, toeing them off quickly and pushing them to the side and then pushing his jeans and boxers down fully before kicked them off onto the ground. Eddie’s heart lurches once he’s pulling the shirt over his head and balling it up in his fists before letting it fall to the ground with the other articles of clothing.

As he stands completely stark in front of Eddie waiting to be told what to do, Eddie can’t help but feel the urge to kiss him. It’s the way Richie’s lips are basically scolding him for not bring attention to them, full and thick with desire as they taunt Eddie. He straightens himself out in front of Richie, hand running up his bare chest before it’s curling around the back of his neck, eyes flickering from each one as Richie begins to lean in, lips parting instinctively.

Eddie allows Richie to come to him, fitting their lips together on his own. It’s tentative, quick inhaling of breath before they meet together both anticipating the touch. Eddie holds back a gasp once they come together, lips slotting together easily before moving against each other naturally. Richie’s hands latch onto the bottom of Eddie’s shirt, pulling it up to his chest before pulling away and lifting it over his head.

“Even the playing field.” He speaks before leaning back into Eddie’s lips.

It grows passion as they work together, hands roaming each other’s waists and running over ribcages to have the other shivering under their touch. The height difference between the two has Eddie lifting on his toes as he wraps his arms around Richie’s neck, tugging him down further as Richie’s hands find themselves around his waist.

Eddie doesn’t let Richie’s height get the best of him though, he’s sliding his tongue into Richie’s mouth before Richie has the chance to, running against the length of his as they both groan low into each others mouth at the heat. They stumble closer into each other with every crane of their necks, bare chests pressed together and hearts racing against each other.

It isn’t until Eddie’s fingers tug at the strands on hairs on Richie’s neck that he gets an audible moan, floating out into the room as he pulls himself away from Eddie’s lips with a string of spit following him as he leans into the pull. It brings a spark to Eddie’s eyes, tugging harshly again to elicit another drawn-out moan from Richie’s throat. It sounds addicting. Once he releases the grip on Richie, he steps around him to where Richie was previously stationed at and pats his palm against the leather once Richie turns to follow him.

**“Come here and get on your knees. Show me how much of me you can take.”**

Watching Richie’s reactions is like watching the sunrise, just when you thought it couldn’t get better, another color is brought to life. Glowing and clouded he walks with a skip in his step, hard cock bobbing between his legs when he walks and it makes Eddie salivate, even more so when he settles back onto the chair. He’s facing away from Eddie, hands gripped into the headrest and back arched. It takes a moment for Eddie to realize that he doesn’t know Richie at all, and the sight of his ass on full display to Eddie is just a reminder.

“Get on with it then.” Richie taunts, looking over his shoulder at Eddie standing completely still.

It’s settling to hear Richie’s smooth voice, confident and unrushed. The same wave of heat rushing into his stomach just as it did when Richie first spoke, and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever been more on edge with any other person. Richie keeps an eye on him until his feet aren’t numb and take the short few steps before he’s standing behind Richie. He sends one finally assuring smile over his shoulder before his head is settling onto the leather material, drawing out a breath as he prepares for the cool touch of Eddie’s fingers.

Eddie’s eyes stare with amazement, soft skin inches away from him. Every inch is tinted a faint blush, running down the length of his spine and back up to the base of his neck. Eddie runs the tip of his finger down Richie’s spine, watching as he visibly shivers under his movements. He instinctively arches his back further, hoping Eddie will continue his path where he desperately wants it, but his fingers trail off once he reaches Richie’s tailbone. It’s the soft touch of finding what has Richie reacting, hands massaging into the back of his thigh to have him humming in his throat.

He leaves him alone for the seconds it takes to uncap the aloe vera gel and dip his index finger into the wet texture. He rubs it between the pads of his fingers, coating both his middle finger as well as his ring finger, all while Richie remains pliant and patient. There’s a shake in his wrist when he reaches out to swipe his index finger against Richie’s hole, watching him jump from the unpredicted feeling. Eddie allows him to settle back comfortably, knuckles gripping harder into the seat when Eddie continuously rubs at the sensitive skin. It has Richie’s breath picking up, but not enough to have him moaning - Eddie takes note that he’s quiet when it comes to foreplay.

Once he feels Richie’s hips push back gently against his touch silently asking for more, Eddie allows the tip of his index finger to prod at the ring of muscles, pushing in with an unrushed force, just allowing Richie’s body to accept it. There’s a content sigh from Richie once he’s managed to make it to his knuckle, finger settled deeply for a second until he’s drawing it back out and sliding it back in. The movement seems to stir Richie and he whispers something to himself that Eddie isn’t able to hear due to the fact that his face is hidden.

“What was that?” Eddie asks curiously, but with a sulky tone so he doesn’t seem frightened that Richie was huffing and puffing at his lack of rhythm.

“I said harder,” Richie grits out, strung in his throat like he’s trying to hold back keens. “You can add more.”

Eddie does, the second finger settling in with the first as he still works with slow movement. He wants to see how far he can push Richie before he’s reaching the dangerous ground and has Richie begging for more. Richie’s still quiet, apart from the continuous small hums once Eddie’s fingers push back in deep. Eddie wants to hear them louder, so once he feels no resistance against the two fingers, he pushes in a third and watches how Richie stiffens and then releases a moan, one that was different from when Eddie was pulling his hair. It spurred Eddie on, picking up the pace of his fingers as he fuels on the mewling Richie’s supplying.

“Yeah,” Richie breathes, simple. “Like that.”

He’s managed to gain full speed, thrusting his fingers into Richie until he’s hitting that pleasurable spot over and over again to have Richie seeing sparks in his eyes. Moans turned into babbling, words wet with spit that drips down his chin. It builds a sweat on Eddie’s forehead and trailing down the length of his neck. He thinks he could do this for hours, just pull Richie apart by every stitch until he’s falling over desperate.

He catches Richie’s hand sliding down his belly to reach his red and throbbing cock just in time to completely remove his fingers, fast enough for Richie to freeze. He looks back over at Eddie with a begging look on his face, almost like he’d cry if Eddie stopped touching him. Eddie doesn’t move, he waits for Richie’s hand to settle back on the headrest, lip pulled between his teeth apologetically.

The look on Richie’s face is enough for Eddie’s knees to go weak, he almost forgot how he’d looked when he ducked his head down. If he thought that the look on his face when he was getting tattooed was anything, this was ten times better. His eyes were still glossed over, brimmed red with frustration like there’d been tears building in his eyes from the feeling. Cheeks splotched red and swelled over the bridge of his nose that’s sniffling with pleasure. He looks fucked out, and Eddie hasn’t even fucked him.

_Why hasn’t he fucked him?_

“Do you have a condom?” Eddie says suddenly, almost alarmed because it hadn’t even dawned on him that he doesn’t come supplied to his _job_ with condoms and lube.

It seems like it’s going to be over before he knows it, mentally cursing himself for not having one because _of course_ when he’s presented with this opportunity and his dick is begging for mercy, he’s not going to be able to actually get off. I mean, he could cum just from Richie’s face, but being pulled into the tight heat would be enough to have him believing in God.

“Wallet.” Richie speaks, keeping to one worded sentences since his throat is raw with moans.

The satisfaction that spills on Eddie’s face is obvious, cheeks pinching into a gleeful smile and he reaches from Richie’s discarded jeans, searching through every pocket until he’s finding the square wallet and pulling it apart until he’s finding the foil packet stuffed between dollar bills. He almost wants to cry with how desperate he seems, because Richie’s a walking wet dream and Eddie’s just been blessed, but it also makes him chuckle because it’s a vivid image from when Eddie was in high school and would have to hide condoms in places his mother would never see.

“You keep a condom in your wallet all the time?” He’s still giggling when he steps back behind Richie, feet planted into the ground and spread in a dominant stance as he unbuttons his jeans. “Feels like we’re eighteen and sneaking around.”

Richie lets out a breathy laugh alongside Eddie, keeping his eyes on him as Eddie slides his jeans down to pool around his ankles along with his boxers. The cool air hits his sensitive cock and has his eyes squeezed shut and his hand grips around the base, he can hear Richie gasp and he instantly looks back at him. His eyes are wide, but not in a way that’s unsettling but almost encouraging, his tongue darts out like he wants to taste it, but Eddie has better plans.

“Fuck, you’re huge.” Richie stammers out, eyes glued on Eddie’s cock.

Eddie should shy away from the boasting from Richie, but it only has his chest puffing out with confidence as his fingers tear apart the foil packet and remove the rubber from inside. He tosses the packaging to the floor before sliding it on over his cock, the pressure of the condom spurring a groan from his throat, even more so when he’s slicking himself up with the gel. He’s impatient to feel how tight Richie is, so his hand falls onto Richie’s cheek, squeezing into the flesh of his ass while his other hand lines himself up with Richie’s hole. He glances up one more time to get a peek at Richie’s reaction, still drooling over Eddie and nodding at him. It has Eddie pushing inside, feeling the tip slip past and causing him to want to push in with a forceful thrust. It already feels euphoric, but he still works himself in with the slow roll of his hips, watching every inch be pushed in further and listening to Richie’s approving noises.

Once Eddie’s fully seated against Richie’s ass, he stills for a moment to bask in the feeling. It has his mind swimming and his vision clouding over. The sight of him buried deep inside Richie is enough to have his cock twitching inside, again causing Richie to groan at the sensation. He draws his hips back slowly, staring at how his cock pulls back out with a shuddering breath. It remains slow, too enticed with the view to speed up, but then Richie’s clearing his throat loud enough for Eddie’s head to snap up.

“Uhm,” He starts, voice wavering as he refuses to look into Eddie’s eyes. “You can like - go hard? I like it... _rough.”_

The sound of his voice itself is enough to have Eddie’s hips snapping forward, pushing Richie against the chair from the force. Eddie can see his face twist up in pleasure as he goes back to hanging his head down, riding out Eddie’s movements. He allows his desire to flood through and take control, hips shifting at a fast pace, skin slapping against skin. The noises don’t stop flowing out of Richie’s mouth, there’s no break for a breather as he moans into the room. They’re a mixture of gasps and cries, all of which are pulling Eddie deeper into the moment.

“Jesus,  _Eds."_ Richie blurts out, words flowing with distraught. “Make me come.”

Eddie’s finger comes down to press against where they meet, pressing down onto the skin that’s split over Eddie’s cock. He can feel the slick slide of his dick against the tip of his finger, pushing and pulling with a brutal force. It has Richie mewling out, the helpless sounds dragging Eddie closer to the end. They sound desperate, croaks in the back of his throat like he _needs_ Eddie.

“You’re so wet, _fuck._ ” Eddie gapes, the excess gel soaking his finger from the slide of Eddie’s thick cock inside of him. “So, good, baby.” He coos, and Richie’s voice breaks in response, hips lunging forward at the words. 

He allows his hand to move from its spot, reaching around the front of Richie’s torso until his thumb is bumping into the neglected cock that’s raised into his navel. He uses his thumb to run up and down the length of his cock, feeling the leaking of precome run down into his palm.

“Let’s get you off, sweets.” He purrs, voice soft like satin as his hand curls around the entirety of Richie’s dick, grip firm as he runs his palm up the length of it.

Eddie’s encouragements only seem to work more in his favor, Richie’s body burning with heat so intense it scratches Eddie. Eddie’s fingers swipe against the head of Richie’s cock, feeling it jump from a touch of sensitivity and then concentrate back onto the friction. And, _fuck,_ Eddie’s trying to hold out for as long as he can manage, but he was nearly busting just at the look of Richie. Now he has to push through the whines and whimpers that pout from his lips, and the thick feeling of his cock in Eddie’s hand as he jerks him off against the stool.

He doesn’t know how Richie manages to switch every button inside of Eddie, especially after only knowing him for a few hours. _The few hours that he’s managed to end up stuffing Richie full._ He’s giving Richie exactly what he wants, what he’s been babbling for since they started. He’s praying that Richie will let go, allow the spasms to take over him and let Eddie release into the condom.

He’s drooling and he knows it, lips wet as he watches the muscles in Richie’s back clench, shoulder blades coming together and then unwinding again when Eddie draws his hips back. Richie’s hips rock gracelessly into Eddie’s palms, chasing for a release as Eddie pounds into him from behind. The feeling becoming too much too quickly.

“Gonna.. _uh_ \- I’m gonna come.” Richie whines, high in his throat as his head strains back.

“Come on.” Eddie encourages, breathing quickening with agony.

Richie releases a started yelp when Eddie’s other hand grips into the strands of Richie’s hair when it’s presented to him and tugs his head back further, throat exposed and raw. Eddie continues to grind his hips lazily into Richie, losing speed quickly but still frantic and needy. “ _Fuck, yes”_ Richie growls, and Eddie’s caught off guard with how strong his tone is.

He lets out a strangled sob, not being able to concentrate as the tightening in his abdomen becomes too much to control and he’s spilling inside of Richie with a strained noise, cock pulsing with every spurt of come. His hand maintains getting Richie off, never slowing down even when his hips do, completely stilling against Richie’s ass as he tries not to focus on the quickly presented sensitivity of Richie tightening around him and milking what he has left.

“ _C_ _ome.”_ Eddie coaxes, knowing he sounds desperate. “Know you need it, fuck - _I need it.”_ He continues to pant, leaning into Richie’s ear to speak.

Eddie can see the rush of heat that flashes through Richie’s spine, shaking him to the core as he completely stills. He releases his grip on Richie’s hair, but his head doesn’t fall from its position. Eddie watches how Richie’s mouth falls open as he comes against the leather chair and over Eddie’s hand, spurt after spurt. It’s thick and warm and it’s not slowing down as Eddie works him through the peak, handing trailing down to Richie’s balls and squeezing firmly enough to have two more strings of come spilling from the slit of Richie’s dick.

“ _Ah,”_ Richie exhales once he’s trailing off almost painfully as he awakens from his orgasm. It’s fucking perfect, the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever witnessed in all of his years.

His head falls back forward, settling against the back of the chair as his entire body relaxes, back falling from its arch when Eddie timidly pulls himself out. The sensitivity of his soft cock sliding out of the wet heat has him gritting through his teeth and has Richie’s body shaking with after-shocks. They’re silent, breath filling the void.

Eddie soothingly runs his palms up the expanse of Richie’s back, kneading into the sore muscles while he waits for Richie’s mind to catch up with reality. The condoms still wound around his dick, becoming uncomfortable with come but he can’t bring himself to take his hands of Richie.

Once there’s a pleased noise coming from Richie is when Eddie relaxes, hands trailing off as Richie’s wound up body moves with ease, limbs shaking as he turns himself over in the chair. He winces when he settles onto his butt, back leaning into the chair like it had been previously when Eddie was tattooing him. Eddie just stands back and stares, taking in the sight of Richie’s own come painted up the lengths of his chest and reaching up to his chin to drip back down his neck.

Eddie’s speechless because he thinks he’s reached complete bliss, nothing could top this moment. “Fuck,” He breathes in amazement. This has to be what heaven feels like. “You look so pretty.”

The way Richie’s eyes lighten at the words is something Eddie wasn’t expecting but it still has his heart thumping against his chest, and he thinks he must look ridiculous just staring at Richie blush from the praise. He lets out a strangled noise, pulling the condom off to throw it into the trashcan by the chair before stepping closer into Richie’s space. He looks drunk, eyes lidded and lips parted as he watches every step Eddie takes, and Eddie’s positive he looks just as fucked from the come.

It’s so creamy and white even as it begins drying against Richie’s skin and he can’t stop himself from reaching out and dragging his finger through the puddle in his collarbones and bringing it up to his own lips to clean off. The taste salty but sweet against his tongue, exactly how he’d imagine Richie tasted and it’s addicting, he only wants to taste more as he looks deeply into Richie’s eyes.

He’s met with raised eyebrows, and Eddie notices he even has come on his cheek. _He might actually pass out._ He holds it back as he hunches into Richie’s space, awkwardly bent over his long body to connect their lips for the second time that night. He’d imagine it’d be weird to have the other taste themselves on Eddie’s tongue but Richie just keens and opens his mouth wider to have Eddie’s tongue lapping against his throat, sulking in the shared salt.

When they pull away, it’s when they’ve run out of air; panting against each other parted lips with their eyes closed until Richie’s hands are settling on Eddie’s bare chest and he’s pushing him away gently, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones until they’re eyes are connecting again.

“Should’ve g’tten every tattoo here if it ended up in that.” Richie speaks teasingly, cocky smirk spread on his lips.

The bubble of laughter that comes from Eddie is unintentional but again feels natural as he offers Richie a disinfectant wipe to clean himself up with. “I’m glad you came in past closing.”

It continues like that, useless banter being passed back and forth between them like they’d known each other for ages. Richie’s mouth is sinful, speaking jokes that aren’t meant to be shared with the public but Eddie acknowledges that he’s just that kind of person that _doesn’t care._

It falls quiet as they gather themselves together, pulling on articles of clothing with a press of their lips together after every passing minute. It has Eddie grinning like an _idiot_ as they step out of the shop and into the brisk night air, both unsure of what to say or how to act after the whole situation. It’s the first time it feels vaguely awkward, hands coddled against their chests and breath puffing out in clouds from the chill. Eddie can see Richie’s nose blossoming under the cold weather, but the smile never fades as his eyes sparkle with the right words to say.

“What’d Britney Spears say in bed?” He speaks, and it wasn’t what Eddie was expecting.

There’s another beat of silence before Eddie’s eyebrows are curling into each other, watching as Richie stifles laughter behind the back of his hand.

“ _Hit me baby one more time.”_ Richie sings once he’d managed to find the moment without laughing.

And Eddie thinks that he’d like to do it _one more time._

  


**Author's Note:**

> richardtoz.tumblr.com


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